


Fringe Benefits

by starhawk2005



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Het, Sex Toys, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 07:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starhawk2005/pseuds/starhawk2005
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has been sent to Earth to live out the remainder of his punishment. Darcy’s job is to get him up to date on Midgardian culture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fringe Benefits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Talulabelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talulabelle/gifts).



> Beta: As always, thanks and naked!Lokis to the lovely canyr12  
> Disclaimer: Can I have Loki for Xmas? Please? I’ve been good (naughty?) all year!!!
> 
> Author’s Note: Based on a prompt from Talulabelle, which was: Loki is sent to earth to live out the remainder of his punishment. Darcy is tasked with getting him up to date on Midgardian culture. Hijinks and hilarity (and smut!) ensue. I don’t know if I managed the hijnks and hilarity, but I DID bring the smut! ;)

When they explain what her very first assignment for SHIELD will be, Darcy can’t believe it.

It’s hard enough getting over the fact that Jane no longer needs her. Now that Fury has decided they need a working Einstein-Rosen thingamabob, so they can get Thor here in an instant if the Avengers need him, Jane has a small army of lab techs, research assistants, and consultants at her fingertips.

Political science students apparently need not apply, at least as far as SHIELD is concerned.

So Darcy’d been kinda happy when they’d said they’d find something else ‘important’ for her to do. Happy at _first_ , anyway.

She’d spent about a week waiting, fantasizing. Darcy Lewis, personal assistant to Captain  America (yum!), or Director Fury (scary but _cool_!). Darcy Lewis, Official Dispatcher for the Avengers Initiative (say, that would look awesome on a business card!). Darcy Lewis, Official Asgardian-Earth Liaison (space travel? Sign her up!)…

But when Agent Hill finally calls Darcy and asks her to come in, Darcy’s jaw nearly drops right off when Hill takes her into the holding area and motions towards a man sitting on a bench inside a large glass-walled cell. 

A man with jet-black hair, skin that’s clearly never seen a beach, and wearing way _way_ too much leather. 

“Let me get this straight,” Darcy says slowly. “You want me to work with _Loki_? Mr. High and Mighty and Psychopathic, who tried to level first Puente Antiguo, and then  Manhattan ? _That_ Loki?”

The man in question raises his head and looks over at them expressionlessly, and Darcy fidgets, wondering how well he can hear them through the thick glass.

“The Asgardian royals have decided that the best way for Loki to make amends is for him to stay on Earth and help rebuild everything he destroyed,” Hill explains. “Obviously, it would be best for all concerned if he can be assimilated as quickly as possible. So we need you to get him up-to-date on American culture.”

“Um, OK,” Darcy says, even though she’s pretty sure this is Not OK. Not Even Within Spitting Distance of OK, actually.

“Of course, we understand you might have reservations about this job. Thor has assured us that Loki will behave properly, or he’ll be punished _very_ severely.”

“ _How_ severely?” Darcy asks.

Hill shakes her head and suddenly looks a little pale herself. “You don’t want to know. Something to do with intestines and venom. I think he’ll make every effort to be cooperative.”

“Oh,” says Darcy. Intestines and poison? “Yeah, that punishment doesn’t sound fun.”

“And we’re also prepared to offer you some fringe benefits if you take this job. What do you say, Miss Lewis?”

Darcy thinks a few moments, then shrugs. She can always quit, right? And it’s not like people are falling over themselves to hire political science students in this economy. Or _any_ economy, really. Being a government employee is probably as good as it’s going to get.

“OK, when do we start?”

*~*~*

Darcy rolls her eyes for what must be the eight-hundred-thousandth time that day, though of course His Mischievousness doesn’t notice.

In fact, he’s wearing what seems to be a permanent expression for him – boredom. Or maybe she should call it Boredom.

It’s pretty much the only expression he’s worn over the entire time Darcy’s worked with him, which has been eighteen business days, five hours, thirty minutes and four seconds. Yes, Darcy _is_ counting, because this is _that_ painful. 

First, they’d covered proper table manners. Fork, knife, spoon, _no fingers_! Oh, and no smashing mugs, Darcy remembered that one just in time. Actually, to be fair Loki had displayed two facial expressions for that lesson – Boredom and Contempt. Lucky her.

Then she’d talked about current men’s fashions. Loki had gone back to Full-On Boredom.

Then she’d discussed the  U.S. political system with him – obviously, as a Poli Sci student, she was especially passionate about that – but the only reaction she’d gotten had been – wait for it! - More Boredom.

So she’d switched to current English idioms and expressions. Just to get under his skin, she’d started with anything related to _hammers_ or _lightning_ or _storms_ -  “drive something home”, “hammer away at something”, “hammer something home”, “hammer something out”, “quick as greased lightning”, “lightning never strikes twice”, “a lightning rod”, “ any port in a storm”, “the  calm before the storm”, “to  storm in and out” , “to  take  someone  by storm” , “to weather the storm” – but of course she’d gotten nothing but (All together now!): B.O.R.E.D.O.M. Boredom. Maybe the briefest flash of Contempt, but it had flickered across his face so fast, Darcy hadn’t been sure.

Desperate, Darcy had tried something more artistic, like playing pop and other kinds of music for him, and explaining to him the origins and characteristics of different musical styles. When he barely flickered an eyelash, Darcy vindictively played him three hours worth of Justin Bieber, Backstreet Boys, and One Direction, just to get back at him. Oh, and one run-through of Achy Breaky Heart, just because she _could_.

He’d been vaguely interested in the television, until she’d explained that it wasn’t a play being acted out by miniature people inside the set. That was when his face returned to default Boredom Mode. 

So now it’s almost a month that Darcy has been slaving away at this totally uncool job, and she decides to try to shake things up. It’s time to leave the premises with Loki. 

One of her fringe benefits is an allowance for lunch, so why not use it? And maybe Loki needs to get out in the world and be reminded _why_ he’s here. If she has to stay in this SHIELD building one more minute, with nothing to look at but Mr. Boredom Face and the Industrial Beige #46 walls, _she’s_ going to fucking destroy the planet. Or Loki. Or _both_. 

She then wastes about ten minutes of her life that she won’t get back worrying that they won’t let her take Loki outside the building and into New York’s mean streets, but they grant her request with barely a pause. Who knew?

“C’mon, we’re moving this party outside,” she tells Loki, waving their day pass in his direction.

“As you wish,” he says, bored (Is she surprised? Uh, _no_ ). Darcy performs yet another eye-roll and leads the way outside.

They’re about ten steps away from the SHIELD building when Darcy realizes that Loki is still wearing his Asgardian biker gear. Which is probably a Bad Idea. Maybe even A Very Bad Idea. Lots of people are still pissed at him.

“Hey, um, maybe we should go back and you should change clothes into something more….um, _less_ leathery?”

He shrugs, not even bothering to make eye contact with her. “No one shall remark upon my attire,” he says dismissively. It doesn’t reassure Darcy much, but whatever. It’s his funeral.

They walk along, Darcy pointing out certain buildings and things on the street to Loki, though she keeps getting the usual bland Bored reaction. Cue more eye-rolling; Darcy’s an expert in it by now.

She does eventually figure out why nobody is staring at them and pointing. When she spots their reflections in a store window, Loki seems to be wearing a dark suit and tie, and pants and shoes just like any businessman. Funny that she still sees the leather armour whenever she looks at him, but Darcy doesn’t really care enough to ask him why he’s not casting his hocus-pocus in her direction.

Darcy finally gives up trying to get Loki interested in their surroundings, and they walk in silence. Darcy keeps looking at him out of the corner of her eye, and trying not to be too obvious about it. What the hell is his _problem_?

It’s a shame, really. He’s kinda cute. Darcy will freely admit that she likes the ‘bad boys’, and Loki’s pretty much the poster boy for Bad Boys. He’s certainly not hard on the eyes, either, in her humble opinion. But even if Darcy was into dating entities who think they are gods, she doesn’t think she could handle dating someone with only one facial expression. Boredom is so _not_ a turn-on. 

His loss.

Which is when Darcy stops, because Loki is no longer walking next to her. What the-?

She turns and he’s about two doors back. Darcy raises an eyebrow and retraces her steps back to him, then glances into the store window. _Oh._

“Um, this is what we call a ‘sex shop’,” she explains, trying not to blush. “C’mon, I’m getting hungry, let’s find a place to eat somewhere. Maybe you’d like to try some shwarma?”

“How fascinating,” Loki says, and is he _purring_? Um, that’s kinda weird. And hot. Yeah. 

But he’s still talking: “Shall we enter?”

“Um, _what_? No. I mean, I don’t usually, um-“ Darcy stammers, and she’s definitely blushing now. Crap.

“Were you not supposed to introduce me to _all_ aspects of Midgardian culture?” Loki asks her, and he’s _smirking_. Darcy stares. Oh my (Norse?) God, it’s kind of…hot. And makes her uncomfortable.

Isn’t he supposed to be the ‘god of mischief’, or something? This _can’t_ be good.

“This is a public establishment,” Loki points out, still smirking. “Thus I assume its wares are legal. I should like to see what is available for purchase, in case I should have need of such in the future.”

Darcy swallows hard and breathes deeply a couple times to try to settle her nerves. Of course he’s right, the bastard. The last thing she needs is Loki getting human women pregnant, or giving them some kind of Asgardian STD (or both!), and so what if she never visits these kinds of places herself (thank God for pharmacies and online sex shops!)?

“OK, fine,” she mutters, mentally bracing herself and pushing the door open.

Exactly two-and-a-half seconds later, Darcy decides that yes, this is A Very Bad Idea. Maybe even the Worst Possible Idea She’s Ever Had (and she’s had oh so many, so she knows a Bad Idea when she sees one). Rack upon rack of dildoes and vibrators as far as the eye can see. Costumes. Bondage gear. Whips and floggers. A wall of condoms and lube. And let’s not forget the adult movies in the little room at the back. Not to mention the clerk at the cash, who seems to be totally amused by Darcy’s discomfort. _Prick._

Gritting her teeth – the sooner she shows Loki around, the sooner Darcy can steer them out of here and do her best to scrub the experience from her brain – she leads Loki over to the condoms and lube. She explains quickly what to use them for, trying to ignore the slowly widening smirk on Loki’s face. Like he’s enjoying her reaction way _way_ too much. 

Right now, Boredom from him would actually be a relief.

She decides to try to get him out of there right after explaining the guidelines for proper condom use, and so she grabs him by the wrist, but it’s like trying to pull a bulldozer with one finger (not that Darcy would know what that’s like, but anyway). 

Instead, he slips liquidly from her grasp. Pausing and looking very thoughtful, he selects a few condom boxes and hands them to Darcy (‘ribbed’ and ‘studded’, she can’t help noticing with yet another blush). He then selects an embarrassingly large bottle of lube, which he hangs onto himself as he walks over to the nearest display of dildoes, beckoning Darcy over when she fails to tail after him. “And these, what are these, and what uses can they be put to?”

She’s red as a tomato, she’s sure of it, but she does her best. The sooner she starts, the sooner they can leave. “Um, those are…I guess you could call them….penis substitutes?” Her voice squeaks on the last syllable, and she’s pretty sure every milliliter of blood in her entire body is crammed into her blushing face right now.

“Ah,” he says, nodding gravely as if Darcy has just told him the secret of life or something, though that smirk still hovers around his mouth. He selects two dildoes, handing one to her. In a daze, she takes it, noticing the deep curve of the toy, and the wide ribs at its base. Um, yeah, that would feel…. _interesting_.

It’s like a nightmare, except Darcy is (way too) awake, following Loki around and trying to explain each class of items to him. He visits the vibrators (“Uh, penis substitutes, but with extra sensations, and they need batteries”), the vaginal/ anal beads (she doesn’t really manage to put together a coherent explanation for those ones), and butt plugs (“Um, those get inserted, um….back there,” and she makes a vague hand gesture, which he must understand because he doesn’t press her for better detail).

Each time, he selects one or two of each thing (usually the items that get the biggest embarrassed reaction from her, it seems to Darcy), usually passing her at least one thing to carry. Soon Darcy’s arms are full of items that she’d rather pretend she’s not holding.

After an eternity they finally make it over to the cash, Darcy trying to look everywhere but at the leering clerk. Loki asks for batteries, which surprises Darcy – she’s never explained them to him before, so how does he even know which kind to ask for? – and then he pulls money out of one of his pockets. That surprises her too, though she says nothing. He’d _better_ pay for his little toys; she’s not blowing her lunch allowance on feeding Mr. Mischief’s little perversions.

Men are apparently the same _everywhere._ E.T.'s or not. 

When they’re finally back on the street, Loki acting like a gentleman and carrying the large unmarked brown paper bag himself, she breathes a deep sigh of relief.

At least he hadn’t dragged her into the adult video section. Or asked her about the bondage gear or whips. Thank God for small mercies.

*~*~*

Lunch goes OK, considering how long it takes Darcy to get her blush under control. At least Loki decides that he likes shwarma. And he even smiles a few times, which has to be something of a miracle. That helps improve Darcy’s mood, too.

When they get back to SHIELD, Darcy walks him back to his living quarters. He’s basically living in the equivalent of a small apartment now, the glass cell deemed unnecessary by the SHIELD brass a couple weeks ago.

“Would you come in?” Loki asks her, surprising Darcy all over again. He’s never invited her in before. But his smile is very warm and disarming, and Darcy’s feet cross the threshold and take her into his apartment before her brain even decides she’s going to say yes.

The place is all open-concept. Actually, it’s not much different from Darcy’s own loft across town. Though hers is bigger. Take _that_.

He asks her to sit on the couch (she accepts) and offers her something to drink (she declines). She watches, her tension increasing all over again as Loki goes over to his bed (queen-size, OK, so he _does_ have something bigger and better than she does at home) and starts to unpack his sex shop haul, laying each item carefully out in a straight line along one edge of the pale grey quilt. 

His mysterious task done, he turns and looks at her speculatively, and Darcy shifts uncomfortably, twisting her hands together in her lap. 

“Well?” he asks, clearly waiting for something. 

“Well, _what_?” Darcy shoots back.

“You are intended to be my guide, are you not? Surely that includes demonstrating for me the _proper_ way to use these items?”

Darcy just about has a heart attack. Or something. “Uh, erm, um…I don’t...um, that’s not in my job description!” she finally manages to sputter.

“How disappointing,” Loki sighs, his face reverting back to the dreaded Bored expression. “I shall see you at the usual time and place tomorrow for our lessons then, I suppose?”

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever,” Darcy mumbles, scrambling off the couch and practically tripping over her own feet trying to get out of there. 

What an ass! How dare he…

*~*~*

Darcy tosses and turns, unable to fall asleep. Finally she gets out of bed and rummages through the fridge for a snack, but she’s not hungry for _food_ , she soon admits to herself.

Had she really turned down a chance to play sex-games with a self-claimed ‘Norse god’? 

Yes, that’s what a _sane_ person does. 

Well, OK, if that’s _sane_ , then why does she keep wondering what would’ve happened if she’d agreed to ‘demo’ everything for him? If it would’ve been fun?

She paces her apartment restlessly as she tries to figure it out.

What’s stopping her? 

Is she afraid of Loki? Um, no.

Is he ugly? Um, Hell to the _no_.

Would she be cheating on anyone? Hell, no. She’s been single for longer than she cares to think about.

And it _is_ her job, right?

Right?

Darcy finally stops pacing and shakes her head. 

*~*~*

The night watchman doesn’t question her at all when she returns to the SHIELD building at  half past midnight . Good, no awkward questions to answer there.

All too soon she’s knocking softly at Loki’s door, and there’s way too much time to second-guess herself between her last knock and the door opening. Still, Loki is naked to the waist and yes, still pretty hot, which helps. Is he still wearing those leather pants? To _sleep_? Maybe Darcy needs to plan a shopping trip for him. She makes a mental note and then shoves it into the back of her mind.

“Miss Lewis? Is everything all right?” he asks. His eyes linger on her face; clearly he’s wondering where her glasses have gone to. Nobody who isn’t part of the Four-Eyes Club knows just how annoyingly smudged glasses can get during foreplay and other bedroom sports, and so Darcy had taken a moment to put on her contacts before coming back out here.

“Yeah, um, I was thinking about what you said earlier,” Darcy mumbles as she squeezes past him into the apartment. She starts looking into light fixtures and opening his tv remote, looking for bugs. The thought of Agent Hill or Fury finding out about this-

“Were you?” he asks. When she turns to look, he’s smirking again, though as she continues to look for spy cameras, it alters to a look of confusion. “What are you doing, girl?”

“Making sure we have privacy, of course,” Darcy points out. “If I’m going to ‘demonstrate’ the proper use of sex toys for you, I’d prefer to do it without having to worry about the security guards getting their rocks off watching me.” She’s pretty sure Loki knows the meaning of ‘getting rocks off’ – she covered that expression, among many others, a few weeks back.

“Fear nothing,” he says, now smiling. “No one is watching. And even if they were, I would have seen to it that they were totally unaware of our….educational activities.”

“OK, then,” Darcy says, leaving off her search for surveillance gear. 

“A moment, if you please, and I shall prepare our ‘classroom’,” Loki says, winking at her in a way which should not be as sexy as it is. With practiced, meticulous movements, he remakes his tousled bed, and then opens the night-table drawer, once again laying out their….educational materials. Yeah, let’s go with that.

Darcy soon discovers though that it’s one thing to decide to do something, and quite another thing to carry it out. So she stands and fidgets nervously, Loki watching her and obviously trying not to grin too much at her discomfort.

“Perhaps you should start by removing your clothing?” he suggests helpfully.

Cue Darcy’s first eye-roll of the night. Well, morning. It’s the next day already, right? 

Her hands somehow are shaking only slightly as she slips out of her coat, and then the sweatpants and t-shirt she threw on before coming out here. Underneath, there’s just her boyshorts, and her bare nipples stiffen as Loki eyes her.

“Where should I…demonstrate?” she asks, glad that her voice isn’t cracking, even if her heart rate and breathing have gone from zero to sixty in two seconds flat.

“Why not here?” he suggests, patting the quilt next to where he’s laid out all the toys. 

“Why not?” Darcy shrugs, and she goes to lie down. He’s still standing though, looming over her, and Darcy realizes that displaying herself like this is going to be a lot more anxiety-producing than she predicted.

Loki cocks his head, considering, watching her shift nervously on the bed. “It seems to me, Miss Lewis,” he lilts, “that we have two possible courses of action. I can seat myself over there-“ he points to the couch, “and observe. Or I can lay next to you and…. _assist_ you. And of course I trust where my technique is lacking, you will…correct me.” The smirk is definitely back.

Darcy thinks she prefers the second option. “I vote for a hands-on experience for you,” she says, willing her voice not to squeak. It obeys, thankfully.

“As you wish, my teacher,” Loki answers with another wink. He moves to lie down next to her, and that’s when an idea occurs to Darcy. “Maybe we should, y’know, start with the basics. Like, um, kissing. D’you have that in Asgard?”

He laughs loudly. “We do, though you are quite correct, Miss Lewis, that we should perhaps determine whether there are any… _cultural differences_ between how Asgardians kiss, and how Midgardians kiss.” His eyes glint in amusement as he leans over her. His hair caresses her cheeks as he moves in closer, his dark green gaze flicking between her eyes and her lips. 

Darcy’s hands automatically reach up to touch his sides, smoothing along skin and muscle as their lips make first contact. His tongue curls into her mouth, and Darcy wriggles in delight, her anxiety fading away a little. It turns out Asgardian and Earthling kissing is pretty much the same. Who knew?

When they break the kiss, both breathing heavily, she says as much to him, and he smirks. “Perhaps you would permit me to demonstrate other typical Asgardian foreplay techniques-“ he proposes. At her nod, he begins to slowly shift his way down her body, kissing and licking down her neck and chest as he goes, though he never completes the sentence, just busies himself with her aching nipples. Sucking, licking, gentle nibbles, and yes, Darcy doesn’t find anything wrong with Asgardian foreplay, oh no! 

By the time he shifts lower, nipping playfully at the waistband of her underwear, Darcy is about ready to rip _his_ clothes off. “May I?” he asks, brushing the backs of his fingers lightly against the thin cloth, and then teasingly down between her spread legs, making Darcy gasp. 

“Only if you take those pants off, too,” she growls in a voice she barely recognizes as hers.

He grins and whips his pants off in record time, at which point Darcy can’t help but notice he’s neither a briefs nor a boxers dude – apparently, Asgardian ‘gods’ go commando. Again, who knew? - and apparently she’s not the only one who’s turned on by this ‘lesson’.

He gets her naked in record time, too, then gently spreads her legs wider and kneels between them, knuckles brushing carefully against her damp curls. He motions towards the pile of toys. “With what shall we begin our lesson, Miss Lewis?”

She thinks about it, then selects the dildo, the one she noticed before with the deep curve and the ribbed base. Grinning, she puts on her best serious-teacher voice. “Now, you take this round end, and insert it, right here.” She points, and tries hard not to giggle and ruin the effect.

He’s got a full-on bad-boy smirk going, but he only says, “Thank you for the explanation, Miss Lewis,” and parts her slippery folds with gentle fingers, sliding the toy slowly into her. 

Part of her can’t believe she’s getting fucked by a dildo by a fucking (no pun intended) ‘Norse god’ – and also, whoever would’ve thought you could use ‘Norse god’ and ‘dildo’ in the same sentence? Somebody call Guinness! – but the vast majority of her is too busy enjoying the way he’s making her feel as he moves the toy slowly in and out of her.

Too slowly. “Your technique is good,” she remarks, biting off a gasp of pleasure, “but you can pick up the pace a bit.” 

“Thank you for informing me, Miss Lewis,” he says gravely, but then he smiles, and is that a dimple Darcy sees? Holy crap, it’s _too_ cute. 

But he does pick up the pace, and the ribs do indeed add a little _something_. Though not enough. Darcy can’t help but notice that the thumb of his free hand, which he has splayed lightly across her mound, is oh so close to the spot she’d really really like him to stroke right now. As if reading her mind, he asks: “There seems to be a swollen spot right above your entrance. Perhaps you would like me to…massage it for you?”

“Yes, that would be fine,” Darcy answers, gasping loudly when he obliges her, lighting all her most sensitive nerves on fire in the best possible way.

His gaze alternates between watching the toy move in and out of her, and watching her face. He’s still wearing that sexy smirk the whole time, and damn, but it’s making her hotter. She gasps and moans louder than her usual, just to watch the corner of his mouth quirk just that teensy bit more.

Nothing wrong with his technique here, she thinks randomly to herself a few moments later. Except- “Maybe you could press a little harder on my clit, please?” He obliges her right away. Such a quick student, Darcy thinks, and she would giggle if she wasn’t so busy moaning.

He stops and pulls the toy out long before Darcy is ready to be done with it, but it’s only so he can put it aside and select something else, which turns out to be the vaginal beads. “I assume these are inserted in the same location?” he asks in a grave tone, despite the smirk, holding them up and shaking them slightly.

_ Yeah, let’s go with that. _ Darcy’s not sure she’s ready for anal play with Loki tonight. Or any night, just yet. Let’s see how this winds up. So she nods.

Her initial disappointment at the loss of the dildo is short-lived. Loki works the beads into her with a frustrating slowness, but then puts his tongue to such good use around her clit that she doesn’t really miss the dildo. When he laps firmly at her sweet spot and slowly pulls the beads free, one by one, she decides she can forgive him just before she comes so hard she sees stars shoot across her vision.

“Your turn,” she decides once her brain clears. He’s still smirking – has he ever _stopped_ this whole time? – but he allows her to push him onto his back. She kisses him hard, her hair falling in a thick curtain around his face, and while he’s blinded, she makes a grab for a particular toy, hiding it behind her and between his spread legs. He hasn’t cornered the market on sneaky, she hopes to be about to show him.

She imitates his earlier actions – hey, they worked, so why not? – kissing and licking her way down his long throat and well-toned chest, sucking gently on each of his nipples. This earns her some soft gasps from His Tricksterness. 

By the time she reaches his throbbing prick, he’s got his hands fisted into the sheets. “I forgot to ask if my technique is pleasing _you_ ,” she asks, looking at him and faking a serious expression. “You know, _cultural differences_ and all that.”

“Indeed,” he drawls, still smirking of course. “I see no need to correct anything. Please continue.” He licks his lips slowly.

She runs her tongue over the head of his prick, and he groans, hips jerking up towards her. Has it been a long time for him?

Darcy smiles. He ain’t felt nothing _yet_. Mwah-ha-ha.

She reaches between his legs to find the hidden vibrator, then turns it on and runs it slowly from the tip of his cock right down to the base, watching his face the whole time. 

His eyes open wide and he gasps in a way that Darcy is sure is totally involuntary. “I take it you don’t have vibrators in Asgard?” she asks slyly.

“No,” Loki practically purrs, “but I begin to think we could use some.” He flashes his teeth at her.

“Would you like me to continue?” Darcy inquires. It’s only polite, right?

“Oh yes, Miss Lewis. Please do,” he answers, though the end of the last word turns into another gasp as she strokes the toy along his length again. 

She does that for a little while, then takes him deep into her mouth and uses the vibrator to stroke his balls – again, who knew that Asgardian and human men were so similar anatomically? Maybe she should’ve done her degree in Xenoanthropology – which earns her first a hiss, then a loud series of groans and gasps, and finally Loki’s hand on the back of her neck, caressing her as she strokes his length with lips, tongue, and gentle teeth.

“Stop,” he rasps only moments later, gently pushing at her shoulder until she releases him and sits up. Before she can him ask what’s wrong, he flips them over with a speed and ease that takes her breath away, pinning her underneath him. He plucks the vibrator out of her hand, then he scoops up and holds a handful of condoms between them. “Please select the one you would prefer to use, Miss Lewis,” he suggests with obvious impatience, breathing hard. Thinking fast, Darcy picks a studded one called a ‘Rough Rider’. Snerk.

After she ‘shows’ him how to put it on, he slips inside her with way too much confidence for this to be his first rodeo – unless Asgardian and human women are as similar as the men are – and he sets a rough, rapid pace that’s enough to make her dig her nails into his shoulders and wrap her legs around his hips, holding on for dear life. His mouth brands itself on her nipples, her throat, her jaw, before claiming her lips in a searing kiss, muffling their moans.

She feels her orgasm coming again, gathering itself inside her, before it swallows her whole. Pleasure erases almost everything else, all conscious thought is gone, though she is aware, if distantly, that Loki has stopped moving, groaning deep in his chest as he empties himself into her. When Darcy’s brain finally reboots, Loki is lying on her, heavy and hot, and though it’s a bit hard to breathe with his full weight compressing her lungs, she doesn’t mind.

He draws a few ragged breaths and then pulls out and collapses next to her, smiling and showcasing those too-cute little dimples again. “How did I do, Miss Lewis?”

“Passed with flying colours,” she says approvingly. Hell to the _yes_.

*~*~*

The next morning (well, the same morning, actually) finds them back in their usual room for their usual cultural lessons. Those are the only things that are ‘usual’, however.

After last night’s first round, thanks to some coaxing from him, she had ‘trained’ Loki on how to use the butt plug on her. Then he had come up with the excellent idea of using the vibrator on her at the same time, to induce her into yet another toe-curler of an orgasm – she tingles every time she remembers it – and she thinks that she may want to ‘go medieval on his ass’ next time.

Assuming there _is_ a next time, though Darcy is willing to bet her apartment that there will be, judging from the satisfied smirk that seems to be permanently welded to his face now. She hasn’t even seen a single flicker of Boredom yet from him since their bedroom ‘lessons’. Bonus!

Something else is different, though. He seems to be answering her questions and picking up on everything faster than in previous lessons (and he wasn’t a slouch before, if she’s really being honest). So finally Darcy just has to ask the question that has been nagging her for awhile, though the whole battery thing at the sex shop was the moment that had really sent her suspicions soaring. “You already know all about us, don’t you?”

The Smirk turns quickly into the Dimpled Grin. “I am perfectly conversant on Midgardian culture, yes. I have been a frequent visitor here over the millennia.”

“So you’ve been playing SHIELD – and me - this whole time.” Darcy rolls her eyes (another ‘usual’ thing), but it’s kinda hard to be annoyed with him after last night.

“Not in all respects,” Loki points out reasonably. “For example, your vibrator toy. Which reminds me, I was _intrigued_ by some of the other items in that sex shop, which I did not yet have the money to purchase. The binding-materials, and those whips.”

“Bondage gear and floggers?” Darcy does another eye-roll, though secretly she knows that she’s not all that annoyed with him. Or really annoyed at all, actually.

“Yes. Perhaps you would be willing to _train_ me on their proper use at a later time, Miss Lewis? I wish to be assured that I know how to use them in the correct fashion.” He licks his lips and eyes her slowly up and down in a way that shouldn’t turn her on so much. Except it really _really_ does.

Darcy rolls her eyes yet again – give it up, buddy, we both know you don’t need any such _training_ – but only gives her best Long-Suffering Sigh and says: “Of course, we need to cover _all_ aspects of your education into Earth customs.” And as Loki grins at her, she adds: “And if we’re going to continue playing like this, call me  Darcy,  OK ?”

He’s doing the Dimpled Grin again, and it occurs to Darcy that it may be time for Phase Two – where Loki actually goes out and starts to repair some of the damage he caused. It’s not like he needs any further education, if he knows all about humans already. The SHIELD brass will be happy.

Darcy is pretty happy herself. Even if she hadn’t exactly expected sex with a ‘Norse god’ to come as part of the package, this is certainly a fringe benefit she can live with!


End file.
